


he ain’t heavy, he’s my brother

by mickeysupset



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bisexual Carl Gallagher, Carl's POV about his relationship with Ian, HAPPY BIRTHDAY PEYTON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!, brothers being brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3812842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeysupset/pseuds/mickeysupset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian is Carl’s favorite sibling.</p><p>Fiona and Lip are there for him, but they aren’t. Debbie is his best friend and Liam is his responsibility.</p><p>But Ian is Carl’s favorite sibling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	he ain’t heavy, he’s my brother

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kissteethstainred](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissteethstainred/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PEYTON! you are amazing!

Ian is Carl’s favorite sibling.

Fiona and Lip are there for him, but they aren’t. Debbie is his best friend, and Liam is his responsibility.

But Ian is Carl’s favorite sibling.

* * *

It’s Ian who finds the notes from his teacher. 

Eight year old Carl thought he was smart, hiding the crumpled up sheets of paper inside the wood post of his headboard, but Ian always seemed to have a way of finding things that didn’t want to be found.

Ian confronts Carl after a particularly rambunctious dinner, after their siblings retire to the living room to scream loudly at the television and at each other as some random football game plays in the background. Carl wants to join, but a firm grip on his arm and Ian dragging him up to their room stops him.

His brother sits him down on the bed before seemingly brandishing the notes out of thin air.

“Does Fiona know that you are having problems in reading?” Ian asks casually but with a pointed look.

Carl tries to return the look before ultimately folding. “Don’t tell Fiona.” He pleads desperately, already imagining the stern look and lecture from his older sister.

“Gallaghers don’t snitch. You know that.”

Carl does, but he also knows that statement is not always true. Just last week, Debbie told Fiona about the BB gun he had stashed under the van. What would stop Ian from doing the same?

“How bout I tell you a secret? Tit for tat?” Ian offers as he gets off the bed and walks over to the dresser next to his bed on the other side of the room. He pulls the cabinet away from the wall and Carl watches as two folders fall out of the wedge behind it. Ian quickly shoves the folder covered in pictures back into its hiding spot before bringing the other one over to Carl.   
  
“I won’t tell Fiona your secret if you don’t tell her mine.” Ian says as he opens up the folder and passes the contents over to Carl.

It’s a bunch of math tests and quizzes, each with dozens of red x’s over the answers and a low grade circled at the top. Carl struggles to read the teacher’s scribbles at the bottom, but he can get the jist of it.

“You’re failing math?” Carl asks.

“I’m fucking bombing math.” Ian says, grinning, like the test on top of the stack says A+ and not F-.

“Does Fiona know?”

“I wouldn’t be hiding my math tests if she did.” Ian gathers up the papers and shoves them under the bed. He nudges Carl’s side. “We all have something we’re bad at, Carl.”

“Lip doesn’t.” Carl spits out. Lip isn’t failing Math or English; Lip is freaking perfect.

“Lip is an asshole; he’s bad at getting people to like him.” Ian winks at Carl before quickly growing serious. “Carl, I’m lucky I know that two plus two equals four. Lip has been helping me though and I can help you.”

“I don’t need your help. I can read; I just don’t want to.” Carl says stubbornly.

Ian raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really?” He stands up and makes his way over their bookshelf, ultimately returning with a short chapter book. “Read this to me.”

Carl yanks the book out of Ian’s hands and aggressively flips it open to the first page. He stares down at the sentences and blinks. It is all gibberish, absolute gibberish. Carl can make out random words here and there, but he knows that stringing those words into sentences is ultimately hopeless. He growls in frustration and throws the book across the room.

“I don’t need to read this to you. I’m not a nerd.”

Ian sees right through his bullshit and flicks Carl in the ear. “Nerds read Shakespeare or those weird ass poems. Normal people just know how to read in general.” Ian grabs another book off the shelf. “Why don’t we start now? It’ll be easy and fun; kind of like riding a bike!”

“I suck at that too.” Carl grumbles. He can still remember Debbie’s laughter from above him as he was spread out on the concrete outside their house, his bike resting a few feet away from him. Sometimes Debbie was the worst.

“But you’re getting better and that’s all that matters.” Ian says gently, breaking Carl out of his thoughts. He opens the chapter book and points out a short sentence to Carl. “Start with this sentence.”

(The next time Carl comes home with a note from school, he reads it out loud to his family (with only a little help from Ian.))

*

_Dear Parent/Legal Guardian of Carl Francis Gallagher,_

_Your son’s reading level has greatly improved in the last couple of months. The extra help at home is doing him wonders and I continue to be impressed with his progress. If only his discipline was as on par as his reading (We will discuss this at a later time.)_

_Keep up the good work!_

* * *

It’s Ian who watches scary movies with him.

It’s a thing. Whenever Fiona is gone (which, between jobs, boys, friends, and booze, was a lot), Ian and Carl watch a horror film.

More often than not, they watch A Nightmare on Elm Street. It should be boring, seeing as they know exactly when to gasp and exactly when everyone is going to die, but that doesn’t stop them from having fun.

 _“One, two, Freddy’s coming for you. Three, four, better lock your door. Five, six, grab a crucifix. Seven, eight, gonna stay up late. Nine, ten, never sleep again.”_ Ian sings as he chases Carl around the room with knives taped to his fingers, pretending to be Freddy Krueger coming to kill Carl in his dreams.

The nights where it was just Ian and him are always Carl's favorites. 

* * *

It was Ian who plays video games with him. 

Ninety percent of the stuff in the Gallagher house was dug out from trashcans, hand me downs, or just flat out broken and held together by ten rolls of duct tape.

When Ian comes home one day with a brand new Xbox under his arm, it is a thing of wonder.

“Where did you get that?” Carl all but yells as he corners Ian in the entryway and paws at the box his brother was carrying.

“It fell off the back of a truck.” Ian shrugs as he pushes his way past Carl and makes his way towards the television (another item in the Gallagher house that “fell off the back of a truck.”)

“Did you get any games?” Carl asks as he stands over Ian’s shoulder, eager to play.

Ian turns around and digs through his backpack. He pulls out a bunch of stuff and passes it over to Carl. “One game, two controllers. You wanna test it out with me?”

What a stupid question.

Practically shaking in excitement, Carl attempts to make himself comfortable on the couch while Ian boots up the machine. Before long, there are aliens screaming on the screen and two boys screaming in the living room.

“Damn it, Carl. That was supposed to be my kill!” Ian cries as Carl’s avatar swoops in front of his and destroys the attacking alien.

“You snooze, you lose!” Carl yells as he jams the buttons on his controller even harder, trying to stop the other aliens from overtaking him.

The score is tied with thirty two kills each and time is running out. With thirty seconds to go, Carl knows that he has to resort to drastic measures in order to beat Ian. It is common knowledge in the Gallagher house that Ian’s left knee is his weak point. A single poke to it would activate Ian’s giggles, and once those start it is hard to stop.

With an eye on the screen, Carl dives towards his brother and tickles his knee, sending Ian careening off the couch and into a laughing fit on the floor.

“What the fuck, Carl?” Ian gasps through the laughter as Carl moves in for the last kill. Just as he cuts off the alien’s head, the clock runs to zero.

“I WON!” Carl screams and dances around his fallen brother as 33-32 flashes across the screen, announcing his victory to the room. “I AM THE BEST!”

(The next time they play, Ian wins by exploiting Carl’s weak spot: his right elbow.)

* * *

It’s Ian who runs away. (This was one of the times when Ian was Carl’s least favorite sibling.)

Ian leaves nothing behind but his army knife and the empty promise to teach Carl how to use it; Ian leaves and the family seems to fall apart without the sixth spoke in the Gallagher wheel.

Fiona is all about cups and her boss. Lip is off to college. Debbie is obsessed with boys. Liam is too young.  
  
Carl is lonely; Carl turns to Frank.

(As usual, he is left disappointed in the end.)

* * *

It’s Liam who overdoses on cocaine.

It’s Fiona who is arrested.

It’s Carl who steps up while everyone else flounders. He finds Frank; he gets the bail paid.

He wonders what Ian would have done if he was around.

* * *

It’s Ian who comes home different.

It’s awesome to see his brother, to feel Ian’s arms hugging around him once again, but there is something off about Ian. His voice is too loud; his stories are too disjointed. He is gone before Carl leaves for school most mornings and absent from almost every dinner.

When Ian is there, he really isn’t. He either has his head shoved in a notebook or he is following Mickey around.

At times, it feels like Ian never came home.

Even though he is right in front of him, a small part of Carl still misses his favorite brother.

* * *

It’s Ian who tells Carl about love.

It’s kind of half assed, but Ian seems more himself again and it is better than the shit he heard from Debbie.

“Is Mickey your boyfriend?”

“We hang out.”

“He’s in your bed.”

“Yeah, his family’s a nightmare.”

“I think I got a girlfriend.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Her family’s a nightmare too.”

“Whose isn’t?”

“You love Mickey?”

“I like how he smells.”

Later, Carl realizes he likes how Bonnie smells too.

Thank you, Ian.

* * *

It’s Ian who won’t get out of bed.

Carl opens the front door to find Mickey Milkovich crying on the other side. It’s odd and it feels like a weird dream.

The dream instantly turns into a nightmare. (And not the fun nightmares he and Ian used to play pretend. There are no forks taped to his fingers tonight. There is no laughter.)

Ian won’t get up. Ian won’t eat. Ian won’t drink. Ian won’t talk. Ian won’t do anything.

It is all eerily similar and without taking his eyes off of Ian to look at Debbie, Carl knows she is thinking the same thing he is.

Monica.

The next day, it’s Fiona who offers him comfort; it’s Fiona who he runs to and allows himself to be wrapped up in her arms.

He wishes it was Ian hugging him instead.

* * *

It’s Ian who is sick and doesn’t accept it. It’s Ian who spends the summer happy. Carl doesn’t really mind though. Ian being happy makes Carl happy.

Happy Ian does fun things with Carl. Happy Ian buys Carl new shoes.

Happy Ian sneaks ice cream and hamburgers into the hospital when Carl breaks his leg.

Happy Ian comes over for family dinners and plays chicken in the pool with his siblings.

Happy Ian feels like old Ian, pre army Ian.

Carl knows that he shouldn’t be this happy, but for now it’s nice.

Of course it doesn’t last.

* * *

It’s Mickey he comforts when Ian isn’t around to accept it.

Before Carl knows it, he’s in the back of a car, racing towards Terre Haute, Indiana.

The drug dogs terrify him and for the first time since he started dealing drugs, Carl regrets it. He wants to be inside with his siblings and Mickey. He wants Ian to see him first. He wants to hug Ian first.

The second Ian is inside the car, Carl launches himself at his brother. Ian barely reciprocates, but just knowing that his brother is safe is enough for Carl.

If he holds Ian’s hand the whole way home, nobody needs to know.

Ian is going to accept Carl’s comfort whether he likes it or not.

* * *

It’s Ian he opens up to.

It’s a well known fact in the Gallagher house that there is something “wrong” with Carl. It isn’t normal to burn cats or microwave fish. A lot of the things Carl did aren’t “normal.”

Nobody ever addresses his issues though. They kind of just let him be. In some ways, it is as though he is the second coming of Ian. No one talked about Ian’s issues until it was too late, the same will probably happen with Carl.

(It already is happening.)

Ian listens though, and that’s all Carl can really ask for,

* * *

It’s Ian whose visits he looks forward to the most while he is in juvie.

Juvie isn’t all that it is cracked up to be. Sure, he is learning the ropes, but he misses his family.

The weekly visits help.

*

The first time Ian visits, there is a fog that surrounds him.

“I heard you got arrested.” Carl says in place of a greeting. Debbie had filled him in on all the gossip the week before. The Gallaghers never seem to do well when one of them is out of commission. He guesses it was time to see how they are faring without him.

“I heard you ran off with Monica.” Ian only nods slightly. Carl glances over at Fiona, who stands on the other side of the room, only to see her shrug sadly.

“I heard you broke up with Mickey.” This time Ian winces.  “I heard you aren’t taking your drugs.”

This time, Ian responds quickly. “I don’t need them.”

Of course he doesn’t.

*

The second time Ian visits, he is obviously on an upswing.

“Are you taking your drugs?” Carl asks, watching as his brother drummed his hands on the table frantically.

“I feel great!” Ian responds immediately, a huge smile making its way across his face. “How are you doing?”

“The food sucks.” Carl mumbles out before returning the focus to Ian. “Are you taking your drugs, Ian?” He asks again.

“I don’t need them.” Ian says as he laughs loudly.

Of course he doesn’t.

*

Ian misses the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth visits.

*

One and a half months after his last visit, Ian shows up alone.

“Are you taking your drugs?” Carl asks hopefully. There is something different about Ian. Something seems okay.

“Yeah.” Ian answers. “I’m really sorry, Carl.”

Carl says nothing and watches as Ian seems to fight some internal struggle.

“You shouldn’t be in here. I should have stopped you. We all knew what you were doing, but nobody did a fucking thing about it. Fuck, even if I couldn’t have stopped you, I should have at least had Mickey give you some pointers.”

“None of this is your fault.” Carl insists. Sammi was the one to blame.

“I know, but I could have done so much more. I let you down.” Ian replies desperately, his voice becoming choked up.

“Don’t start crying, Ian. That’s not a good look in here. I’ve got a rep to protect.” Carl jokes, trying to alleviate Ian’s guilt and cut the tension in the room.

It somewhat works and Ian rubs a hand down his face as he finally laughs. “How are you?”

Carl shrugs. “I’m alright. I found a crew; It’s all good.”

Ian nods and his face grows serious once again. “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself, Carl.”

Carl grows just as serious.

“You too, Ian.”

*

A few visits after Ian’s confession, Ian shows up with Mickey.

It’s still a tad awkward, but there is something there.

Hope.

* * *

It’s Ian he calls after he has sex with another guy for the first time. 

It had all happened so fast, and now as he lays in bed next to Steven, both naked and breathing heavily, Carl still has no fucking clue how their night of hanging out went from video games to fucking in ten seconds.

Was it the copious amounts of weed they had been smoking? Maybe it was the chocolate beer that Steven’s older sister had left behind after her last trip home.

There had been other boys in the past, but nothing like this. The other boys consisted of friendly handjobs behind the bleachers. Just a bro scratching another bros itch. At least that’s how the other guys had justified it; Carl knows it meant more than that.

Carl knows that fucking Steven was definitely more than a bro helping another bro out. Carl now knows (from experience) exactly where the gay weiners go.

It’s not exactly awkward when Carl gets up to leave, but it’s definitely not the most comfortable situation ever. He makes an excuse about needing to study and bolts out of the dorm room. Carl is barely out of the hall before he’s dialing Ian’s number.

“Hello?”

“Can I talk to you?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. Mickey is making breakfast, so come on over.”

By the time Carl makes it to Ian’s apartment, breakfast is on the table.

“Hey!” Ian calls as Carl lets himself into the apartment. “Mickey had to leave for work but he made some more pancakes just for you.”

Carl throws himself down into the chair next to Ian and picks at the food in front of him. Carl Gallagher is never nervous, but right now he feels as though he might piss himself.

“So…...” Ian starts, obviously knowing that Carl came over for a reason.

“I slept with a guy last night.” Carl says bluntly, never being one to skirt around a topic. He waits for the shock to come, but it never does.

“Oh.” Ian replies before going back to cutting into his pancakes.

“Oh? That’s all you have to say? Oh?” Carl asks, shocked.

“Were you okay with it?” Ian asks back thoughtfully. “Would you do it again?

“Yeah.” Carl answers truthfully after thinking about it for a minute. He had liked it, he was okay with it.

“Then I don’t see anything wrong with this.” Ian says simply around a mouthful of pancakes. “Welcome to the queer club, Carl. We have jackets.” He shoves a couple of pancakes on to Carl's plate. "Now tell me more about this guy."

* * *

Ian had always been Carl’s favorite sibling.

**Author's Note:**

> mickeysupset.tumblr.com


End file.
